People Change
by RoAr.LiKe.A.lIoN
Summary: It's True... What They Say: You can't find happiness, if you won't let go...
1. Anger

Authors note: This is my newest story. I'm still in the add-a-character-mode so there's a new girl character and probably some of her random friends. This is also written in my attempt to give southern dialogue so be nice about spelling and stuff like that. This chapter is also really, really tiny because it's like 1 in the morning and I'm not in a typing mood. I can promise there will be another chapter added tomorrow. Happy reading!

' You are now entering Tulsa' a sign said, ' welcome to our great city.'

"Great city my ass." I murmured after taking a drag on my cigarette. I stared aimlessly out the window of my Cherry Red Ford Mustang at the all to familiar sights. I always felt depressed reading that sign after a long vacation.

" If you could call being a fucking exhibit a vacation," I said, hatred dripping from my voice. I hope from my little ranting session you were able to pick up that I strongly dislike _my _family vacations, but more on that later. I also hope you were able to acquire from my car ride so far that I talk to my self. A lot. There's this thing where, whenever I don't have anyone to talk to I feel the need to say my thoughts out loud, it may be a random comment or I give my self a pep talk or whatever but I do this and it also creeps me out, no need to worry.

You may be asking yourself why a 16year old girl is saying that she was an exhibit, so I might as well tell you a bit about myself. My name is Sofia Star Robinson. I have long curly wavy black hair, tan complexion, and stormy gray eyes, which I absolutely hate because they show all my emotions. You can easily tell when I'm happy or mad. Most people would go as far as to call me beautiful, or as my mother would put it, " Isn't she just a star? Well of coarse she is!" but personally I think my lips are a little too big and my hair to shiny and perfect. Only god knows I don't wake up with my hair and makeup done, that's up to the stylist that lives with us. I know crazy, but neither me nor my mother could put colors together to save out lives. If it were up to me, I'd leave the house in sweat pants, no makeup, and no hair do, but seeing as my mother finds this ' unacceptable lady behavior' it's totally out of the question.

One thing that really gets to me and makes me crazy is how all my fathers employees fawn over me when they have their own damn kids to give frilly little pink things to.

A lot of people, mainly my friends even a cop now and then, tell me that I look like some chick from the North side of town, Angela Shepard, a.k.a Angel. I have never met her nor do I want to from the horror stories my friends have told me about her two brothers Tim and Curly. I guess Tim was the leader of some greasy gang, but I've never personally met him.

I looked down at the mile gage, when a flashing light caught my eye. Shit! No Gas!! Luckily, I was near a gas station called The DX; I was also on my last cig so I decided to grab a pack. As I pulled up, a good-looking guy that looked around my age walked out of the station. I'm pretty sure I would have dumped my current boyfriend, Alex, for this guy until I noticed the grease. Crap. This is greaser territory, no wonder this boy was looking at me weird as I roll up in my brand spankin' new Mustang I got for my 16th birthday.

"Hey Soc, this is our…" the boy began to say but stopped talking once he saw me.

" Hey look, I'm sorry 'bout this but I'm outta gas n' cigs, just wantin' to pick some up." I said casually hoping he didn't hit girls for being on their 'turf'. I really hated this whole grease, soc, rivalry. I mean, you take away the grease and ungodly amounts of money, and you got normal kids.

" Yea its OK." He said, his composure slightly less thuggish. His voice also became more pleasant. I walked to into the station and a boy with black hair and crazy swirls was looking me up and down. He first smirked, then leaned closer as I approached. That was one thing I have always hated about the greasers. They all seemed obsessed with sex, boys and girls.

" What can I get ya, good looking?" He asked, his smirk still placed firmly on his face. Ok, just ignore it, my mind told me. I was squeezing my car keys so hard in my hand, I was pretty sure it was bleeding. I wasn't like I was wearing something provocative, but if my mother ever saw me wearing it, she would just murder me. I was clad in a denim mini skirt (not too mini, about 3 or 4 inches above the knee), a pair of black pumps, and a black t- shirt that had "No Way" written across the chest in pink letters. The pink matched my lip-gloss, finger- nail polish, and jewelry.

" Just a full tank of gas and a pack of cigs." I said trying not to sound pissed, but miserably failing. He rang it up and handed me my cigs before returning to his seat behind the counter, near the window. Before I pushed open the door he called to me,

" Why you on our side a' town?" I turned back to look at him, he was royally pissed.

" Just getting some gas. I was out." I stated before pushing open the door and walking out to where the good- looking boy was surveying my car. As I approached he acknowledged,

" Tuff ride." He smiled. He has a great smile. " Fergot to ask how much gas?" he added.

" Full tank. Just got back from the vacation from hell." I groaned leaning against the driver's side door. He looked up from the gas pump and snickered.

" What? Mummy and daddy wouldn't buy everything the little princesses wanted?" He asked in a mock child's voice. Ok so maybe I need some anger management because the next thing I know was I'm yelling,

" Nah, mommy and daddy got me everything I wanted including them parading me around like a prize winning poodle. Ya know not all fucking soc's are stuck up like all greasers aint hoods." I yelled before getting into my car and crossing my arms. Yea anger management is defiantly on my to-do list. I looked up to see a shocked expression on his face. After he finished pumping the gas he walked over to the drivers side door.

" Ya know, you really remind me of this one chick attitude n' all, Angel Shepard. You hearda her?" He asked.

" Yea I heard of her." I answered irritably.

" Ya'll woulda been great friends." He commented.

" Yea if only people weren't such assholes we mighta been." I said before tearing off into the direction of the West side.


	2. notie, note, note!

Authors note (yay):

Heyyyy! Sorry it's taking me soo long to update  I DID have a chapter done, but my stupid computer, (I hate computers), ate it.

So now I have to start it all over again which is really sucky cause I personally thought it was pretty good…. So I will be updating soon. I'm gonna sit my ass in front of the computer and I'm not moving till it's done, lmao!

Love ya'll,

Sarah


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